


Rain at Times

by Aerest



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 15:32:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10722153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aerest/pseuds/Aerest
Summary: It was raining. Long streaks of water fell down a dark grey sky, sending the street’s surface into turmoil. Leaves, dirt, cigarette filters and whatever else people had dropped was rushing downhill, in a waterfall-like stream.Jaime Lannister stood in the middle of the street, fists balled, jaw clenched. His black suit was soaked through, his tie in the process of sliding down his back, his clearly expensive leather slippers ruined.It was well after midnight on a Tuesday night and Jaime had decided a few hours ago that he wouldn’t care anymore.





	Rain at Times

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Foul language, attempted suicide.
> 
> Written for Meet-Cute March over at JBO. It turned out rather not-so-cute, and March has long been gone, but, well, at least they do meet (eventually) ;-)
> 
> As always, I need to thank CTippy for her encouragement, support and critical mind.
> 
> All mistakes are mine. I'm no native.
> 
> Everything you recognize isn't mine.

 

 

It was raining. Long streaks of water fell down a dark grey sky, sending the street’s surface into turmoil. Leaves, dirt, cigarette filters and whatever else people had dropped was rushing downhill, in a waterfall-like stream.

Jaime Lannister stood in the middle of the street, fists balled, jaw clenched. His black suit was soaked through, his tie in the process of sliding down his back, his clearly expensive leather slippers ruined.

It was well after midnight on a Tuesday night and Jaime had decided a few hours ago that he wouldn’t care anymore.  
A bottle of whiskey had been supporting this decision. As well as Cersei’s voice on his phone’s answering machine.

This was the anniversary of Tommen’s death. His 'nephew' Tommen. Jaime snorted.  
And now he would lose Myrcella, too. His beautiful, innocent, sweet 'niece'. Cersei would move to the other end of the country, wedding yet another man. In the process of doing so she wasn’t only ridding him of Myrcella’s occasional visits, but also of the planned uncle-niece summer holiday. Cersei voiced her regret that they would need to move in this exact week. What an unfortuate 'coincidence', indeed.

He felt the anger coiling up in him.  
"Fuck her!" he roared out, throwing back his head.

Fucked her - yes, he had! Repeatedly. Most of their lives. Sneaking into her bedroom past well-meaning nannies, ridiculous husbands, unsuspicious children. What a pathetic ghost of a relationship it had been! If she had been as faithful as he had been, if she had loved him as he had loved her, if they hadn’t needed all the sneaking and hiding - if he hadn’t found out that she was a lying bitch he might as well be with her this night, fucking her.

"Up yours, asshole sister!" he shouted out, taking a broader stance, extending his remaining hand’s middle finger high into the air.

A car approached, finally. He had been waiting for this. Careless, reckless drivers, speeding through the streets at night, trusting that no one would be dumb enough to be outside at this time of night. Putting their fun above everyone’s health. Hah, he himself had been one of them, until he had held his daughter for the very first time, feeling an awe for life that had been new to him.

He was momentarily blinded by the car’s headlights. It wasn’t going as fast as Jaime had hoped, but the rain would help to obscure his shape until it was too late for the driver to hit the brake in time.  
"21, 22, 23, …" he started counting, forcing his breath into an even rhythm, waiting for the impact.

It didn’t come. Instead he threw himself sideways, crashing onto his stump, using the momentum to push his legs over his shoulder even farther out of the car’s reach. When he came back to his senses he lay full length on the pavement. His whole body ached.  
"Fuuuuuuucccckkkkkkkk!!!" he bellowed.

 

* * *

 

Brienne was late. She had panicked in front of her wardrobe, and a second time in the bathroom. She was a grown woman, had a reputable job and easily managed to clothe herself and apply make-up on a daily basis. Just not for occasions like this one.

When she entered the restaurant she was a nervous, sweaty, blushing mess. Taking a deep breath, she let her gaze roam, fiddling nervously with the white carnation in her hand. The only man sitting by himself was staring straight at her, his face unreadable, the dreaded carnation in his suit’s buttonhole.

Brienne was hit by a wave of self-consciousness. She considered to turn and run away, but she didn’t. Taking a deep breath she approached his table.  
"Hi. I am Brienne", she smiled insecurely, extending her hand to him. He stayed put, staring at her plain, homely face with its crooked nose, long scar on the cheek and myriads of freckles.

"You are, aren’t you?" he finally answered. He ignored her outstretched hand, letting his gaze wander over her broad shoulders, to her nearly non-existent cleavage, down the long distance to her feet. When he looked back up to her face he appeared to have made up his mind.

"Let me be honest. That’s not what I expected. I liked writing to you well enough, but you will understand that this" he gestured from her to him "won’t work."  
He looked her up and down once more. "At least I now understand why you wouldn’t show a picture. You look even worse than I gathered from that behavior." Shaking his head he got up. "Dearie, do yourself a favor and get surgery on that scar and nose. Well… Best of luck, anyway."  
With that he left.

Brienne slumped onto a chair, her hands trembling. She tried to suppress the tears, but the tension of the last days, the excitement, the expectations, the nervousness, and the final humiliation needed a way out. Silently they flooded her eyes, ran down her nose, dripped onto the tablecloth.

"Ehrm", someone cleared his throat. "Excuse me? Do you want to order? Or… if you don’t need this table anymore… we’ve got a waiting list."  
Brienne got up without looking at the waiter and left.

 

* * *

 

The rain poured down onto him, creating a puddle on his upper body. The car came to a halt. Its door opened and closed audibly, running steps approached, a woman’s voice shouting out to him: "Hello? Are you ok?"

Jaime closed his eyes. He didn’t want to talk, he didn’t want to explain, he didn’t want any kind of attention right now. "Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Never been finer. Leave."

She wasn’t that easy to get rid of though. She kneeled down in front of him, a worried look on her face. "Do you remember your name? Where you live? What happened?"  
Her eyes were scanning his body to check for visible wounds.  
"Yes, I know my name, I’m fine! Just leave me be!" he grumbled.  
"Can you move your limbs?" she asked, not giving up.

Jaime opened his eyes, heaved himself into a sitting position and glared at the source of disturbance. "Look, woman. This is a free country and I am a free man. Just because you want to talk to someone in the middle of the night doesn’t mean I have to be that person." A stab of pain shot through him as he stood up. Smiling arrogantly he added "Get yourself a dog if you’re feeling lonely!"

Without looking back he raised his hand in a carefree gesture of goodbye and walked right into the shrubbery that skirted the pavement, not looking left nor right, going into just any direction to get away from that woman.

As soon as he was out of view he gave in and started to limp, listening closely whether she was following him or not. When he felt secure enough that she wasn’t, he collapsed back onto the ground. 

His left foot hurt like shit. Carefully he rotated his ankle, inhaling sharply when another wave of pain shot through him. He tried to find the source of the problem, but his shoe was in the way. Carefully he undid the laces. When he tried to remove the shoe with both arms he noticed the blood. A big laceration crowned his right arm’s stump. Blood, stones and dirt prevented closer examinations, but now that he had seen the wound he started to feel it as well.

He removed his shoe with his left hand while hissing swearwords under his breath. His foot was swollen and badly throbbing.  
No way would he get it squeezed back into the now useless shoe. He hurled the slipper into the bushes aggressively, the only reason for keeping silent his fear that the nuisance of a woman would follow him after all. Though he started to see the advantages of her car - in a completely different way than only a dozen minutes before.

 

* * *

 

Fitting to her mood it was pouring rain outside. It took about a minute to soak her completely through. Her carefully coiffured hair clung to her head in thin streaks. Her make-up ran down her cheeks.  
Brienne wanted to dig herself a hole to never climb out of again.

Instead she decided to walk home. Anything would be better than being exposed to the many judging eyes she’d have to face on public transportation.  
Movement usually helped her calm down, find clear thoughts, deal with whatever life threw her way.

What foolishness had ridden her to think that it could go well? That she, "The Beauty", could have finally found a man who was able to look further than her unappealing outside? A loud sob hiccuped up her throat.

A colleague had recommended online dating to her. "Believe me, it’s going to be great! They will fall in love with your inner beauty and not mind your looks once they meet you!"

She normally liked her co-worker’s enthusiasm. But right now her fists itched in an urge to punch something. Or someone. Highschool had taught her that her nanny had been right: She was hideous.  
Life kept proving that fact to her again and again.  
Online dating wasn’t the exception she now knew.

Normally, Brienne wouldn’t have chosen the path that led through the town’s park at night, but her mood and her reluctance to meet anyone let her take it.

It had always fascinated her, already as a child, that everything appeared to be louder when it rained. The cars, the birds, a dog’s bark far away. And of course the sounds the rain itself created, falling onto the leaves, dripping further down, shaping puddles on the ground. When she had walked far enough into the park that the cars appeared to be just a faint swoosh in the distance, she halted her step.

Her eyes closed, face raised to the sky, she felt the cold raindrops dripping onto her skin, gently touching her nosetip, caressing her eyelids, following the shape of her lips. Mingling with the remains of her tears, washing them away with the most tender of touches.

She took one, two deep breaths, straightening her back, rooting her stance, trying to regain her ground, her inner balance. She was a strong woman. A strong, accomplished woman. It was a folly to crumble from rejection like she had just done. He hadn’t even been cruel, just honest. And wasn’t she herself the one that always advocated honesty?

Gradually, anger and sadness left her. As if they were washed down her, alongside the tears, sinking into the ground, leaving her not happy, but at least relieved that this experience was over for good. Love was not meant for her.

Inhaling deeply another time she opened her eyes, jumped as high as she could, and landed full force in the big puddle she had been standing in.

 

* * *

 

Lying on the ground felt good but wouldn’t solve any of his more recent problems.  
Jaime fucking Lannister, heir to the Lannister empire, secret ex-lover of the most beautiful woman alive, hidden father of three… two… one! child left, drowning in the forest. Bleeding to death. Dying of heartbreak. Would the newspapers sing heroic songs of him once his body was discovered, covered in mud, feasted on by snails and earthworms?

He barked out a wave of cynical laughter, stumbling back to his feet. He wished he had taken another bottle of whiskey with him. Despite the throbbing in his stump and pulsating pain in his leg he could still feel his thoughts.

As he started walking he loudly chanted Tommen’s favorite song, trying to keep up a walking rhythm. "It's always summer, under the sea. I know, I know, oh, oh, oh. The birds have scales, and the fish take wing. I know, I know, oh, oh, oh…"

Remembering the rare weekends and holidays he had been allowed to spend with his children, his tone grew more and more aggressive, until he spat out the last "oh" and realized he didn’t know how the song continued anymore. And neither where he was walking to. He should have been back on the street by now. Instead he seemed to have navigated himself further into some kind of shrubbery - forest - meadow landscape. Despite having spent half of his life in King’s Landing he had no clue where he was.

Why the fuck hadn’t he been able to simply stay put on the street until everything was over? Why hadn’t Tommen had his reflexes instead?

"Pathetic" Cersei’s voice commented in the back of his head, and with a loud roar Jaime punched the tree closest to him.

 

* * *

 

Walking down the path with long strides, sending water and mud flying left and right, Brienne was starting to enjoy her night. The constant sound of the rain calmed her, and the absence of people allowed her to relax, to simply be.

When was the last time she had done something as crazy as aimlessly walking through the park at night? On her own? Not that she was in need of protection. She was a regular at her local gym and had always loved the martial arts. And still media reports and warnings from her female acquaintances had kept her from doing anything that could have been considered reckless. Or unwomanly.

When she approached a crossroad of the path she halted. Combing her fingers through her hair pensively she considered her options. She should get back home. Take a hot shower. Eat something. Concentrate on getting at least a handful hours of sleep to be prepared for the next day’s load of work.

She should. But she didn’t want to.  
Grudgingly she accepted that night’s peculiarity and turned left, following the path deeper into the park’s center.

 

* * *

 

Pain exploded in Jaime’s arm, rippling through his whole body. He fell forward, thumping against the treetrunk, being held upright only by branches. The wet bark muffled his next scream of frustration. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck", he breathed.

All of a sudden the last remnants of energy left him. He slouched to the ground, hid his head between his knees, crossed his arms atop of it and tried to not think or feel anything. Breathing alone already was a lot of work.

When he looked up again he saw the lake. And recognized it. King’s Landing City Park. He had been here with the children, feeding ducks, nearly every summer.

Letting out a long breath he got up and slowly limped towards the water. The rain drew patterns of circles on the lake’s surface. Carefully he extended his bare left foot into the water. The coolness felt good on his skin. If he stayed in longer it might numb some of the pain. He could even -

Examining his clothes Jaime decided that nothing he did that night would matter anymore. He was soaked already, and it would probably be for the best to wash away the mess of blood, gravel and mud that clung to his clothes before he tried to call himself a taxi.

One careful step at a time he lowered himself into the water.

 

* * *

 

Brienne blinked once, twice, not believing her eyes.  
The perpetually falling rain and the night’s darkness obscured her gaze, but someone appeared to be standing at the lake’s brink. Carefully she sneaked closer, trying to get a better view, when the person started walking - into the water.

She could think of only one reason why someone would do something that stupid on a Wednesday night. Her brain shut off.

Being still too far away to get the person’s attention by shouting, she started running, avoiding slippery spots of mud as best she could, and hoped she would be in time.

 

* * *

 

The piercing coldness of the water came as a shock, but as he had hoped it also eased the pain in his foot. The rocks and pebbles that covered the lake’s ground proved to be difficult for walking, but at least his right shoe protected him from any further injuries. Jaime slowly lowered his hand and stump, preparing himself for the presumably painful moment they crossed the water’s surface.

He flinched, held his breath, then released it slowly through his teeth.  
As soon as the pain became bearable he bent over and carefully started to wash away blood and gravel. The process kept him too invested to notice the quickly approaching steps.

 

* * *

 

The person - a man in a suit, Brienne now recognized - was already stomach-deep in the water when she finally was close enough. She slowed down to gather enough breath to address him, when she saw him bend over.

"Don’t!" she yelled and ran the last steps to the shore.

 

* * *

 

Jaime raised his head in confusion when he heard someone shouting. His eyes grew wide in astonishment, then the impact of a big body hit him. He lost his balance and went under water, when strong arms grabbed him around his waist and pulled him towards the shore. His injured foot thumped over the ground painfully, and his stump was squeezed between their bodies.

If he hadn’t been caught in a coughing fit to get the water from his lungs he would have screamed out in pain.

 

* * *

 

With her last strength Brienne dropped the stranger to the ground, before she collapsed at his side. He was leaning on his side, coughing his lungs out. She felt scorn mix into her worry.

"What do you think you were doing!?" she shouted at him, as soon as he had stopped coughing.

"What the fuck did YOU think you were doing!??" he yelled back, finally turning his face to her.

Brienne’s breath stopped. This was probably the most beautiful man she had ever seen. His facial contours beat any model’s, his hair had a golden shimmer despite its wetness, and his eyes shot emerald sparks at her.

The man kept her gaze, his expression gradually changing, before he abruptly leaned back onto his left arm, hissing out a silent "fuck". Brienne watched with growing confusion as he struggled to get to his feet.

She jumped up to offer him a helping hand when she noticed his bare foot, his stump and his swollen hand. She gulped, trying to understand what she saw.  
"Is this the reason you wanted to…?"

 

* * *

 

"Wanted to - what?" Jaime snapped back at her.

Ignoring that towering woman’s hand he managed to shift his weight enough to finally stand up.

"You didn’t…?" she asked, confusion and hesitancy visible on her face.

"Listen, wench, this night has been shit and I wanted nothing more than to clean my wounds and get a clear head!"

She looked down, apparently ashamed. "I am sorry. I really thought…"  
He snorted at that. "Do your thinking when you’re alone and can’t hurt anyone!"

Her head snapped back up, her eyes meeting his, glaring at him. She opened her mouth as if to say something, then closed it.

Jaime used the pause to look her over. He had no clue what she was doing in the park at this time of night, but at least he now understood why she dared to be all alone - and how a woman had been strong enough to carry him ashore. A smug grin spread over his face. "You know, I get it. You’re ugly, no one loves you, so you’re on a constant lookout to help strangers to get some gratitude and sympathy. But, you know, you should really make sure your help is appreciated before you jump into action. I don’t need anything. I’m fine." He didn’t dare to move to not prove his point wrong. His left foot felt aflame and he ached to sit down again.

The woman’s face had turned unreadable in the process of his small speech, but her shoulders were tense. She held his gaze for another moment, then nodded.

"As you wish."  
With that she turned abruptly and left.

Jaime sighed in relief and plopped to the ground. With the woman gone it was finally time to call a taxi. If he stated his name and hinted at a generous tip the driver would surely pick him up at the lake and help him to the car.  
He carefully grabbed into his suit pants’ pocket to retrieve his phone when he realized his stupidity. The phone was wet. It might have survived the rain, but the lake…

Jaime groaned in frustration.

"Wench?" he shouted out. "Hey, woman! Woman! Helpful woman! Come back!"  
"Please…" he added silently, wondering at what point this night had truly started to turn into a nightmare.

 

* * *

 

Brienne stormed away, trying to not let it look as if she cared, keeping her posture, shoulders straight, not looking back. Her face burned from humiliation.

Why did apparently all men need to behave like assholes around her? She was not beautiful, despite the cruel nickname her - male! - classmates had given her back in highschool. She got it. No one would ever flirt with her, no one would ever marry her, no one would ever have kids with her. But she wasn’t asking for that! Not anymore. All she wanted was some basic human decency!  
She had tired of male cruelty such a long time ago.

She winced when she heard him shout something after her, but forced herself to walk on as if she hadn’t heard.  
It took her another handful of steps before her mind was able to connect the words the still falling rain let reach her ears.

Her steps became gradually slower, until she finally came to a halt.  
For a short moment she allowed her shoulders to droop while she buried her face in her hands. Then she took a deep breath, straightened again, and turned to follow his plea.

 

* * *

 

Jaime didn’t know whether he was relieved or annoyed to see her bulky shape come closer through the haze of rain.

"What took you so long? Are you not only ugly, but also deaf?" his frustration found its way out.

For a moment it appeared as if she’d simply turn and leave again, but for whatever reason she stopped herself and spoke instead, looking him dead into the eye.  
"You asked for help. If you want it you should rather not insult me any more."

Her eyes… He gulped. Then shook his head. "You’re right. A maiden in distress should never goad her knight in shining armor."

This time she did turn.

"Oh come on! Do you have no sense of humor at all?"

She started to walk away. He panicked.

"For fuck’s sake, yes, I need your help! I cannot walk, my cellphone’s broken" - her steps became slower - "my son died exactly a year ago and I spent the night trying to kill myself, just not when you 'rescued' me!"

When she faced him he couldn’t read her expression. Jaime started to regret his honesty.

"Don’t worry, though. By now I realized my ex would be way too happy to have me gone, so I decided to stay alive."  
His sarcasm apparently left her unmoved. She just nodded.

Without losing any more words she looked him over, frowned at his wounds, then stepped closer, grabbed his left arm, put it over her shoulder, laid her own arm around his waist. "Let’s go."

He could feel the warmth of her body, her strength when he had to lean on to her to make his steps, her patience to gradually lead him along the seemingly endless way towards the park’s exit. Her company was oddly soothing. Step by step Jaime slowly relaxed.

Inconspicuously he eyed her. He was happy for her strength, but she looked ridiculously big for a woman. She was slightly taller than him and as wet as he was, her white blouse clinging tightly to - unexpectedly she turned her head to see why his steps had become slower. Caught in the act, he gave her a quick smile, bringing her to a confused halt. She blushed, then quickly faced the path again and continued her steps. He gulped, then hurriedly followed her pace, not able to shed the now conscious feeling of her breast at his armpit off his mind.

 

* * *

 

Brienne wasn’t quite sure whether she was worried or relieved by the man’s sudden silence. He was breathing irregularly and limping heavily. She could feel his body stiffen whenever his hurt foot touched the ground. However he had managed to bring himself into this state, the injuries would definitely need their time to heal.

Surprisingly enough it was a pleasant silence between them. And she was even more surprised how good his body felt next to hers. He was slightly smaller than her and their shapes appeared to fit seamlessly. She was thankful for that, as it eased the strain of steadying his walk. At the same time it was a new sensation: Fitting.

His breath suddenly hitched and he slowed down. Worried, she looked over to him. His eyes were on her blouse - then he looked up and smiled at her.  
Brienne’s mind stopped working for a moment. He was beautiful when he was angry. But when he smiled… _"Stop it!"_ she called herself to reason and walked on, trying to not think any further.

It was clearly relief she felt when she saw the park’s gate show up in the distance. Their walk had become awkward after their exchanged glances. Each brush of his hip at hers had sent a wave of electricity through her body. She was very aware of his muscles’ movement under her arm around his waist, as she was of his hand’s warmth on her upper arm. She searched for something to say, but couldn’t find words. Their situation was too absurd to hold smalltalk, but too intimate to address it.

They approached the gate in uncomfortable silence.

 

* * *

 

Outside the park the woman took a deep breath and unhinged herself carefully from him, standing motionlessly for a moment, facing the street. Jaime felt the cold creep into his body, missing her warmth at his side.  
"It’s too late for public transportation" she said and turned to face him. "Did you come here by car?"

The street lamp bathed her in light, and her sight stunned him for a moment. Her hair was of the lightest blonde, her blouse was mostly transparent from the rain and showed off her trim figure, but what shocked him most were her eyes - they were of the bluest blue he had ever seen. Sapphire blue. And tender. He swallowed. Shaking his head he tried to claim back his senses, saying the first truth that came to his mind. "I was too drunk."  
Her gaze was unimpressed.  
"Do you’ve got enough money on you to call a taxi?"

The question made Jaime burst into laughter. This woman had no clue who he was! He laughed until his laughter turned into bitterness.  
"Yes, I do" he simply stated, once he could talk again.

She nodded and picked her cellphone from her bag, calling the taxi office.

Standing without support exhausted Jaime more than he wanted to show. The muscles in his right leg, tense from exertion and the cold, started to tremble and cramp. He gritted his teeth, suppressing any sound that would betray his state.

The woman kept her distance from him, glancing in his direction as often as to the street, avoiding his gaze. It wasn’t until the taxi arrived that he realized that he didn’t even know her name.

She approached him, offering her shoulder once more to support his way to the car. Barely holding his balance he opened the back door, plunked himself onto the seat and laboriously shuffled to the neighboring one, making space for her.

For a moment she looked uncertain, then, after a quick glance to the driver, shook her head. "I’ll walk. It’s not far anymore."

Jaime tried to object, but his words were cut off by the bang of the car’s door snapping shut.

"Where to?" the driver demanded to know.

When Jaime finally looked out of the car’s window she was gone already.

 

* * *

 

Brienne stood on the sidewalk, trembling from the cold. She watched the man talk to the driver, his gestures, the lines in his face. When she saw him turn towards the window she impulsively stepped out of the street lamp’s light. His gaze was searching for a moment, then he closed his eyes and sagged against the backrest. The taxi indicated and left.

She didn’t even know his name.


End file.
